


Barter

by merong63



Category: VALORANT (Video Game)
Genre: Omen gives good advice, Other, hurt/comfort?, tender moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:28:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29354979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merong63/pseuds/merong63
Summary: Sage discovers that she's the subject of an exchange of service and finds that it's something she never knew she needed.
Relationships: Omen & Sage (VALORANT), implied Reyna/Sage
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Barter

**Author's Note:**

> i had to take the liberty of giving Omen the ability to teleport with other people so i can make this work.  
> gomen about this, but said ability is just for this fic ahehe *scratches nape*

Papers. Endless amounts of them.

Sage has been poring over the researches, reports, and recommendations sent to their headquarters for two days now. (Two days since High Command, together with the bulk of their forces, left for one of the most high-profile missions their team has ever had. Two days since it’s been last lighthearted and playful around, owing to their presence.)

~~She’s not gonna think about why she wasn’t selected to go because of how she’d just been through an abduction, almost torture, and messy rescue by a team led by a rabid, vampiric operative.~~

But truth be told, the sadder thing in this situation is that she, the current acting commander of the base, is nowhere near a quarter of the said papers she’s supposed to go through for the day.

Yesterday had seen a productive output from her, owing to the fact that she pulled a very unhealthy no-break, all-nighter regimen. A regimen that ended when, at some point during the early hours of today, she had fallen asleep on her desk.

Thankfully, when she woke up just a little shy of noon, she found a blanket draped over her back, which prevented the cold she would definitely have had acquired otherwise. She’s also thankful, and surprised, to find a covered tray bearing a turkey sandwich, an apple, and a bottled energy drink sitting neatly on top of her desk.

An inkling within her that tells her the identity of just who has done those things for her gets snuffed out by the more rational, logical part of her that insists they would never do such things, especially for her.

Sighing, she resolves to let the matter rest for now and just revisit it later – after she’s gone through the stack also sitting neatly on top of her desk.

‘Right.’

‘But first…’

Pulling the tray closer to her, Sage picks up the sandwich and takes a generous bite of it. It’s delicious. But she may just be hungry, because she finishes the food item in six bites.

Sage looks at the apple, contemplating eating it too. In the end, it’s the energy drink she takes, not wanting to upset her stomach for filling it too much and too quick. Besides, it’s not like the apple will go anywhere.

With lunch out of the way, the sentinel picks the file on top of the stack, sets it before her, and starts her day-long endeavor.

It’s during her review of the fourth document that an agent pops into her office and asks for inventory approval.

The healer quickly goes over the matter and, seeing that everything checks out, signs the inventory report.

The agent thanks her and leaves quietly.

Before Sage could go back to her papers, a couple of agents come in, both also seeking the boss’s clearance.

The acting head also dispense with those matters expeditiously, looking to gain headway with her main task.

But then, after a few more minutes, more agents start clambering into her office to ask about this task or that job. And this gets just that bit of overwhelming for the improperly-rested acting Command – a fact that becomes instantly apparent to the one watching from the shadows.

A figure steps out of it, then, and proceeds towards the head table.

“I can make them go away.”

Sage takes in labored breaths, willing herself to calm. It’s very much unlike her to be this worked up, and over such mundane desk work at that. ~~(‘Well, you _were_ just in a near-death situation.’)~~ She’s nevertheless able to shake her head at the offer.

‘No…’ she thinks she says as she clutches the armrests of her chair, breaths coming out in puffs, strained and heavy.

The figure keeps a silent scrutinizing eye over the hyperventilating woman and decides that, ‘Yes, that is not what you need.’

Because what Sage needs is to get out. What Sage needs is to escape. What Sage needs is to hide.

…so Omen hides her – hides her behind the safety of his own identity; behind the security of his own means of self-protection.

With the shroud in place, Omen extends his hand towards Sage. The latter stares at it, stunned (and quite like an idiot, if she were to be honest).

“Come on, I know a place.”

The gruff statement snaps Sage out of her trance. She takes it unthinkingly, letting the other agent pull her up and whisk her away.

Sage isn’t sure what made her close her eyes in the process (it could be instinct, it could be fear, it could be her subconscious desire not to disturb and agitate the wraith), but she’s sure that Omen will not appreciate a request for the step-by-step explanation of his abilities.

That said, the Chinese healer, however, cannot stop herself from asking that one thing which has been pervading her mind since waking up.

“If I may speak freely,” the sentinel starts. “You have been graciously, but truthfully unusually… accommodating of me. I am very grateful to you for that; I really am.” Sage pauses then, and it makes Omen instinctively wish that she stop there altogether…

“But one cannot stop wondering as to why.”

…and not ask that very question.

Omen barely stops himself from growling.

“A barter,” he answers curtly instead, and Sage doesn’t have to ask to know who the other person was in that barter.

She smiles. Yet, there’s a look of slight dejection that crosses her face, and it has the controller’s curiosity piqued.

“Am I going to like what she exchanged for this?” Sage asks tentatively, heart thumping a little wildly. She’s afraid of the answer, no matter if she admits it or not.

Omen keeps his gaze on her.

“I can’t presume to know what you like or dislike.” He answers, but his traitorous mind shows an image of a flash drive containing wrongfully withheld, jealously guarded matters which, had it been him to go with the team, he would have nary a problem of obtaining. Unfortunately, he was deemed “too close” to the case and so was benched as a result.

Still, he considers himself lucky that the other one who could also retrieve those files was chosen to participate and was incidentally the one to seek him out for a deal.

This deal.

“Of course.” Sage answers solemnly, and she falls silent after, face heating up from the shame of the other’s dismissive answer.

The silence becomes thick and unbearable rapidly, and though Omen is one to ignore such thing in favor of letting it become so awkward that the other would be forced to leave for a breath of air, he finds he can’t do such thing today. He has a service term to comply with, after all.

“This is something you should discuss with her.” he tells the healer. A wrong move, really, as he sees her wince from where she stood.

Omen inwardly groans. This is not his thing. Bringing blankets, food stuffs – those he can do. But Reyna was clear in her stipulation as to the overall well-being of the healer.

So, try again, he does.

“But no matter how you’ll feel,” he restarts, “you should tell her; otherwise, she’ll continue blindly doing things for you.”

Sage regards him intently at that, soft brown eyes showing receptiveness of whatever else he chooses to impart. And Omen takes that as a sign that he’s on the right track to making her feel better. It’s what emboldens him to continue.

“I doubt either of you could stand that for long.”

The implication of that statement pierces through Sage’s entire being, sending little shocks all over. But once they’ve subsided, she thinks of how incredibly perceptive and subtly attentive her teammate is to pick up such a minute detail that, when left unattended, can snowball and wreak utter destruction.

The realization about the wraith brings a smile on Sage’s face.

Seeing this, Omen decides he’s in the clear and that Sage has calmed enough. So, not wanting to prolong their respective absences from the base, he extends his hand again to the healer, very much like how he did earlier.

This time, however, Sage takes it purposefully. She gives it a squeeze and, before closing her eyes again, tells the other with a soft smile, “I will. Thank you, Omen… for everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> inquiries, complaints, violent reactions, plain ol' comments, etc. are, as has always been, welcome (⌒_⌒;)


End file.
